


come undone

by Blownwish



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fingering, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Rough Sex, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 19:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11950956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blownwish/pseuds/Blownwish
Summary: Sixteen year old Yuri Plisetsky is irresistible and Otabek Altin is done resististing.





	come undone

**Author's Note:**

> A Tumblr anon requested: _"Otayuri, something underage and dirty, like Yuri getting fucked while wearing Beka's leather jacket."_
> 
> Done!

“Bekaaaa….” He's straddling Otabek's legs and he's had one too much beer and he's only sixteen. Only sixteen. Otabek ought to know better. He _does_ know better. Yuri is just a kid, he doesn't know what he's inviting when he puts his hands behind his head and moans. “Beka, I think I'm tipsy.” He has no idea. He thinks Otabek is safe. He thinks Otabek is a gentleman. He thinks he can ask Otabek to bite his glove off after he gyrates on the ice, after he seduces the world with his creamy, tight body, after he drives Otabek out of his mind, and expect Otabek to follow him around like a pet.

But Otabek is not safe. He is a bomb, so close to detonation the countdown is almost over. He's sweating, he's got to take off the leather, he's got to pull the boy off his lap, he's got to get a real drink - to hell with the beer - and find someone else, someone old enough to understand what _yes_ means: his dick and their ass. But Yuri is _bouncing_ on his knees, now. “I'm so bored. What do you wanna even _do?_ ”

He thinks this is going to start with a couple of coy pecks and end with hand jobs. What would he do if Otabek told him he wants to hear their skin smack as Yuri to bounces in his dick like that? Would he leave? Leave and never talk to him again?

Some might say that would be for the best.

What Otabek knew, for sure, was that fucking Yuri Plisetsky was _not_ for the best. He was just sixteen. Sixteen.

“I'm tired.” No, he isn't. “I'm taking you back to your hotel.” He ignores the pout as he puts his leather jacket over Yuri's shoulders. “Come on. Get off.” He ignores the ache in his balls. He ignores everything but the number: sixteen.

He can do this. He can do anything he puts his mind to.

++

“I don't have time to mess around, like the old man and that pig.”

Otabek watched Yuri's mouth as he spoke. He couldn't help it; his lips were bright pink and full. He didn't want to wonder what it was like to make them wet with kisses, and to feel those wet lips all over his body. But he was. And he's not the kind of man who lied to himself: he had thought about it before Barcelona. He had thought, too much, about it. Dreamt about it, and woke up from those dreams sticky and hard and aching and wanting so much more than just Yuri's mouth.

It was wrong. More than wrong - it was insane. And it got worse. Otabek planned. He planned to rent a motorcycle. He tracked Yuri around Barcelona until the moment was right, and swooped up him on his bike like a prize. His prize.

“I'm not into all that stuff.” Yuri shuffled his feet over the concrete. Sighed as he leaned against the marble facing of his hotel. Smiled as he looked into Otabek's eye and showed him a light brighter than any in the Barcelona. “I'm all about skating. Skating and winning.” He had no idea how easy it would've been to kiss him. To kiss him, and make him do more, so much more. Or how dangerously close he was to finding out.

Otabek stepped back. “Me too.” Usually that was the truth.

++

Otabek is being pushed against the wall. His hands are up and he's internally begging any gods who will listen to make Yuri stop, because he sure as hell can’t push him away. Not when he's wiggling and giggling and sighing and _he's nuzzling Otabek's neck_ , now. Oh, fuck. Otabek pounds his fist against the wall.

“Don't take me back, Beka…” Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. “I want to stay here. With you. Don’t you even get it? I want you so ba-a-a-ad! Don't you even know?”

He grits his teeth. He exhales slowly. He feels Yuri's breath huff as he smiles against his skin. “Of course I know that.” He's not an idiot. He saw those sweet little smiles, the school boy crush that sent Yuri out to find Otabek in a club, the feverish show he put on during the Exhibition skate.

“Trying to say you don't want me?” He smiles up at him. Laughs and winds his arms around Otabek's neck. “I know you want me. I can feel it.” He wiggles against him some more. “You're _hard_.”

“Yuri, don't -” He wants to stop him from sliding down. He wants to keep him on his feet. To pull him up off his knees. And he can't. He doesn't have the power to stop any of this because there are no gods, just forces of nature, and Yuri Plisetsky is one of them. “No.”

It's pointless. Yuri is pulling down his jeans. Pulling down his briefs. Pulling out his dick and he's smiling up at Otabek, his lips are trembling and he's so determined not to be intimidated because Otabek is too big, too hard, too much for sixteen. “This for me?”

Yes. “No.” Otabek doesn't want let him lick him. It's just one little swipe of the tongue against his foreskin. Not enough, not nearly enough, and it's too much. He needs to stop. Otabek groans. “I don't want to do this.”

“Yes you do.” Yuri licks again. He doesn't realize how teasing it is, how tantalizing he is with his pink tongue and pink lips and those big green eyes blinking back up at him. All Otabek would have to do is grab him by the hair and push his head down. All he would have to do is thrust, just a little, and that sweet mouth would be wrapped around his dick.

“You don't know what you're asking for.”

Yuri rubs his dick against his lips. “What, am I supposed to be scared? Of you? Seriously?”

“You…” Those words break something inside of him. Something that felt decent. Something that felt right. Something that felt like his conscience. But it was never really all that strong if sixteen could do the job. “You should be.” Otabek reached down and Yuri gasped. “And you will be.”

++

Otabek was seventeen the first time he jerked off to Yuri Plisetsky. He'd was watching video of his winning junior’s performance at Helsinki. The kid was barely fifteen and he made Otabek rock hard.

It was disgusting. Otabek imagined his puckered little ass hole, imagined the soft pop as he'd pull out to smack his sweet ass with his dick, then he imagined the boy whining for him to push it back in. Of course he wouldn't do that. He'd probably cry and beg him to stop. But in Otabek's warped imagination, Yuri Plisetsky was begging for more. Begging him to come all over his back. His face. In his mouth.

He couldn't stop doing it once he started. Otabek became obsessed.  

He had to wait until he was all alone, so he could watch the videos like porn, and  masturbate. He needed to do it several times, too. Once was never enough. He had to come until he was dry and chaffed. And even then, he could still come. It was insane. He was insane. He was _disgusting_.

++

His face is covered with dry come. Otabek had fucked his face, pushed his dick down his throat, over and over, as Yuri struggled and gagged and stared back up at him, daring him to stop.

Oh, Otabek was passed stopping. “This is what you wanted, right? Well, you got it.”

He had pulled Yuri off when he came. Forced him to keep his mouth open with his thumbs, pulling the corners back as Otabek shot into his mouth. Then his cheeks. Yuri gasped and pursed his lips together as one big glob of spit and come dripped over his chin.

It made Otabek hard again, in seconds. No - he never got soft. “Don't get comfortable.”

Otabek is grabbing his wrist, now. Throwing him on the floor, now. Snorting when Yuri tries to sit up and pushing him on his back. “I warned you.” He takes his face and smears the come, _his come_ , across his lips. “I warned you and you wouldn't listen to me.” He yanks off Yuri's boots. His pants. His briefs. But he can keep the jacket. Otabek likes seeing it on Yuri. It feels like ownership.

“I want you to do this!” Yuri snarls back at him. “I want you to fuck me hard, too. Don't treat me like a little kid! I want you to - “

Otabek shoves Yuri's underwear in his mouth. He's had enough talking. He's had enough, period. He pushes Yuri's knees up to his chest.

There's lube. There's the panic in Yuri's eyes. And there's the sweet little ass Otabek's dreamt of far too long for his sanity. He works one finger deep inside. It takes lots of pushing. Yuri moans and tries to touch himself, but he's going to learn, and Otabek swats his hands away. “You want me to fuck you, Plisetsky? Or you want to play with yourself?” Yuri shakes his head, whining as Otabek jams his finger into him faster.

He's crying at two fingers. Crying and trying to get Otabek to touch him. But he isn't allowed to roll his hips. Otabek smacks his ass when he tries. Takes the underwear out of his mouth when Otabek curls his fingers and finds that spot, right there, and makes him whine. “What's that?”

“Please! Oh my god! Why do we have to do all this? Just fuck me!”

Otabek smiles. It's a smile that should frighten Yuri, as he shoves the underwear back in his mouth. As he lifts his ass up and lowers his head. As he looks over the delicious pink dick, the creamy skin, then right into Yuri's eyes and takes one long, slow lick where his fingers have been. And another. And another. Then they're not licks. Otabek pushes his tongue inside his pink, tight body. Owns every startled cry. Then he moves up. Moves up and devours his dick. Sucks and gorges himself as he shoves three fingers in. And Yuri twists and sobs and watches and sobs some more.

God, he doesn't even know he's still teasing him. But how can he? A force of nature isn't conscious of the power they wield. Otabek is incapable of stopping himself. He climbs over Yuri, grabs the lapels of that leather jacket and tosses the underwear aside, pushes his tongue into his mouth. Feeds on the whimpers as he pushes himself into Yuri's body. The boy is gone. Childhood is over. Otabek slams himself deep inside as Yuri screams his name.

He moves underneath him, squirms as Otabek holds him down, shudders as Otabek moves inside him. He's so tight. He's so small. He trembles as Otabek reaches down and wraps his hand around his dick. “You're going to come.”

Yuri nods.

“You're going to come and you're going to lick it off my hand.”

“Yeah.” Yuri nods again.

Otabek pushes his knees back. God! He's like a vice. Otabek isn't going to last long, and neither is Yuri. He's growling, gritting his teeth and grabbing for Otabek's arms, legs - anything. He can have it. He can have it all. Otabek pushes as hard and as deep as he can. Yuri arches his back. And when he comes? He reaches for Otabek's face.

It is the most gentle, trusting gesture. Otabek doesn't just come. He explodes, and he is destroyed. What's left of him collapses. He is vaguely aware of the arms around him.

Those arms are strong.


End file.
